


From Little Things

by DoveFanworks



Series: Borrower!Prom [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, a small intermission from the main storyline;v;, hehehe it's dadgang time BABY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24165463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoveFanworks/pseuds/DoveFanworks
Summary: Outside of nurses, maids, doctors, Ignis every other day, and occasionally his father, nobody interesting really visited his chambers.But tonight, there was someone interesting in his chambers. Or rather, something.There was something moving on his bedside table, Noctis was sure of it.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Borrower!Prom [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413532
Comments: 94
Kudos: 216
Collections: FFXV Pocket Edition





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of AU of the borrower!AU has been rattling around in my brain since I started it, and I figured it was about time I actually played with it a bit;v; Basically, Noct and tiny Prom meet when Noct's still bedridden from the Maralith attack.  
> It was a really fun and interesting challenge to write such young characters, trying to make them a but more impulsive, but also quick to forgive and forget, quicker to grow friendly even though their first meeting is pretty bad, whilst still feeling believable, and I hope that in some ways I accomplished that;0; Although... in hindsight I really regret not making this whole drabble more dream-like and having the encounter be a lot more gentle and vague, so that at the end Noct isn't sure if it was a dream or not. As it is, I'm not entirely happy with how this one turned out, but I think it's as done as it's gonna get right now;-;  
> Oh well, those little action sequences of someone catching poor Prom are just too fun to write I guess;v;  
> Anyway, I'm afraid the actual next (and very likely final) part of the main AU series likely won't be done for a long while, my uni semester has been changed up dramatically due to the pandemic (though I am safe and in a much better situation than many others) and I've struggled to acclimate to it. So, hopefully this little spin-off will tide you all over until it is finally done <3

Outside of nurses, maids, doctors, Ignis every other day, and occasionally his father, nobody interesting really visited his chambers. 

If he was completely honest, he was sick of anyone visiting his room at all. Always the same. Always ‘how are you feeling?’ and ‘it’ll be better soon’, ‘the doctors are doing all they can’ and ‘your father is a very busy man’. He hardly even listened anymore.

Ignis wasn’t as bad. It was still better when he visited. It made him feel bad though, how easily he was growing tired of him too. His words always blurred together after a while, and it only grew worse the more times he came up to sit by his bed. He tried to pay attention, really he did. 

But he couldn’t, so he didn’t.

His father… was a very busy man. He understood why he couldn’t visit him often. And why they were so short when he did. He understood.

So no, nobody interesting really visited his chambers, at least not anymore. But tonight, there was someone interesting in his chambers. Or rather,  _ something _ .

There was something moving on his bedside table, Noctis was sure of it.

He couldn’t make it out properly, whatever it was it was super skittish, sticking to the shadows as though it were one of them, shying away in the corners of the shelves and the arching, darkened curves of the intricate carvings that lined the walls. It had to be a mouse. From the tiny glimpses he could catch of it, through the murky light of the sleepless city that filtered through his half drawn curtains, just beyond the polished brass base of the bedside lamp, it twitched and skittered about like one. But it  _ just _ wouldn’t come out into the open enough for him to make sure. 

It had been still for a while now, sitting cautiously in the dark, and he wondered for a moment if it had somehow realised he was awake. But even as he peered into the blackness, the eye that was half mashed into his pillow barely open a crack, just enough to make out the silhouette of the tiny creature, the curve of its little body hunched and crept a little closer. It was tiny, from what he could make out, even for a mouse. A baby mouse perhaps?

But then, how would he know how big mice usually were anyway? It was weird, but it was only in that moment that he realised he had never seen a live mouse until now. Sure, he had  _ seen _ them before, on tv a couple of times or on the computer, but he had never actually  _ seen _ one in person. When he thought about it, he guessed that made sense, why would a mouse ever come so high up anyway? And it wasn’t like the maid staff would ever allow one to get far in the Citadel anyway. Mice probably weren’t something royalty were supposed to have in their homes, least of all the perfectly polished and pristine halls of the line of Lucis. And so, something as common as a mouse became an oddity. Something rare and infinitely curious to a young, sheltered and bedridden Prince. Even as he watched, the shapeless form of the tiny creature inched closer, so close now he could  _ almost _ make out what might have been the tufts of soft fur.

He wondered if he could catch it.

His blurry gaze slid to the glass that sat right on the edge of the dark stained wood, empty save for a thin sheen of water at the bottom. Would that work? Would he even be able to reach it fast enough? Would it be big enough to capture one little mouse? He didn’t want to crush its tail or paw beneath the rim or anything. He really didn’t want to hurt it after all. 

A small part of him wondered if the whole idea was overly cruel, and yet, the other part urged him on to try. Just to see if he could. And besides, it was better than lying there for another long, draining night, pretending to sleep whenever one of the maids cracked open the door to check on him. (He didn’t even know why he pretended. Perhaps to not disappoint his father. Perhaps because he faintly hoped that one of them would  _ be  _ his father.) And why shouldn’t he try and catch it anyway? It was what other kids did, what  _ normal  _ kids did, wasn’t it? Catch mice and bugs and lizards just for the hell of it, keep them in hastily made-up boxes and jars under their beds until their parents inevitably found them out. That was what other kids did, right? So why shouldn’t he? It wasn’t like he was going to hurt the little thing anyway. Just sort of... hold on to it for a short while. Maybe show Ignis. He’d probably think it was cool, Ignis always liked it when he showed him things he found interesting, and then he could help sneak it out so it could be released somewhere better than his room. Really he was probably doing the little thing a favour, if the maids found it they’d probably try and kill it, and he didn’t want it to die. It hadn’t done anything wrong.

He was still deep in thought when it moved again, silently watching as the little shape hesitantly stole up to the base of the bedside lamp, disappearing entirely behind it. Which side would it come out from? Would it skitter bravely across the open ground of the tabletop? Or would it squeeze behind the lamp and stick safely to the wall? What was it after all the way up here? How did it even get up to the highest floors of the Citadel anyway? It must have been a long climb. It must have been thirsty and-

Hungry. Of course, now he remembered the half of a biscuit he had left on his saucer when the maid that evening had brought him his tea, (supposedly to help him sleep, though it never really worked). He found he didn’t have much of an appetite these days, when eating was one of the few things he was still able to do on his own, he found himself growing sick of it quickly. So he had only managed to nibble his way through half of the biscuit before he had pushed it aside. The empty teacup was gone, so whoever had taken it must have left it, probably assuming he had still wanted the other half. He hadn’t… but it seemed now someone else did.

As though visibly showing its agreement, the little creature poked what he assumed was its head around the ornate base of the lamp, only just able to make out the anxious twitches as it glanced about, ever wary. But it looked like it was going to head straight for the plate, straight across open, vulnerable ground, all within the range of his bedridden grasp. But it sure was taking its time getting on with it, lingering like a ghost at the bottom of the light, like if it sat there long enough he would simply forget and presume it to just be another part of the beautifully intricate brass. Well, he wouldn’t, nor would he accidentally fall asleep before the chance came.

He still couldn’t move very far on his own, and there was no way he could leave the bed, so he would just have to be patient. The urge to finally see the creature properly gnawed at the back of his neck though, goosebumps rising along his arms in involuntary excitement, even as he forced himself not to move. He had to stay still and quiet, until the little beast came within reach. He would only have one shot at this.

After another minute or so had crawled past, a small eternity, the mouse at last moved forwards once again. In the dim light, and the bad angle, and the squint of his one barely open eye, it was almost impossible to make out as it skittered silently across the wood, stalling every now and then to glance about nervously. He didn’t dare to move, forcing his breaths to remain even and slow, all his practice pretending to be asleep for the maids seemingly paying off. 

Finally, the mouse stopped entirely again, hovering at the edge of the plate, the smooth arch of its little back slightly clearer out in the open. It twitched, glanced about with a jerky fervor, and then it stood up on two very un-mouselike legs.

Noctis surged upwards, hand shooting out for the empty glass, the thick covers heaping about his waist. Already he could see the tiny… thing, whipping around, taking off across the tabletop with shocking speed. He only had the time to bark out a small noise of protest before he was lunging after it. Hot, burning arcs shot up his spine as he was forced to twist, but he pushed himself past it and up onto one arm as he stretched to his limit. The creature darted across the wood like a fish beneath the water’s surface, fast and flickering, just out of his focus. Noctis held his breath, squinting through the dim light, straining to track where the little figure was headed, and brought the glass down with a final ‘bang’-

Silence fell like a thick, heavy curtain. The room around him was still. Even the constant thrum of the city seemed to fall quiet, waiting. Nothing moved. Faintly, as though he was floating somewhere just outside of his body, he eased forward and flipped the switch of the bedside lamp with his free hand, bathing the room in warm, golden light. Blinking through the glare, he returned his gaze back down to the glass. The palm of his hand was still tightly wrapped around it, preventing him from seeing inside, but he knew- He hadn’t seen the creature dart away at the last second. Hadn’t seen it lunge down the back of the table or leap for the ornate ledge that skirted the room. So that could only mean-

He tensed as he felt something rattle around beneath the glass, faint vibrations thumping weakly against his palm. Small, blurry shadows shifted around the base as the thing inside scurried about, no doubt searching for a way out.

Noctis swallowed hard. Forced the lump in his throat past the excited hammering of his heart, the burn in his back easily ignored for now, and slowly shifted his hand to finally get a good look at what he had caught.

As soon as he realised what he was looking at, the breath left him in a rush and his mouth fell open. Because what was curled up beneath the glass, wide-eyed and trembling, wasn’t a mouse at all. Not even close. 

It was a tiny, human boy. Perfect in every way. From his fluffy blonde hair, to his pink little nose and brilliant blue eyes, down to his crudely stitched clothes.

“Woah,” Noctis breathed, blinking hard, truly not sure if he was dreaming or not.

The tiny boy was pressed as far back against the glass as he could manage, as far from  _ him _ as possible. Dark splotches of dampness stained the front of his dark shirt, moisture glinting on the miniscule buttons from the last dribble of water that had still been in the glass. One perfect little drop even perched atop the crown of his head, like a crystalline bird.

“Are you a faerie?” Noctis whispered, leaning down to look closer. He had to only be around the size of his hand, and would have been able to very comfortably sit in it. The tiny boy visibly startled, bright eyes never once straying from him as he curled even tighter, like one of the pillbugs he used to dig up in the gardens when his nursemaids weren’t looking.

Noctis tilted his head, frowning slightly. “Can you not understand me?”

The tiny boy bristled, hair standing all up on end for a moment, before he slowly shook his head.

“So you do understand!”

A hesitant, shaky nod.

“So are you then?” Noctis repeated, unable to stop the excitement creeping up in his voice as he leaned even closer, chin almost pressed to the wood, “a faerie I mean?”

The boy pressed his back flat to the glass wall, little chest heaving, shaking his head wildly, the droplet of water in his hair finally dripping down the side of his face, soaking into the fabric over his shoulder and sending a shudder through his miniscule body. 

“Oh, so, what are you then?”

The boy hesitated, and then shook his head again, tiny lip trembling.

Noctis’ brow furrowed, the corners of his lips turning down in a confused frown. 

“Can you not hear me properly under there?” He tried. 

The tiny boy stared blankly. Noctis set his shoulders, determined to hear at least one word from this… not faerie, by the end of the night, and raised his voice as much as he dared, wary of any maids or guards that might have been lurking outside his doors.

“Alright, well, what if I let you out?”

The tiny boy’s head jerked higher, lips parting with shock, but if any sound came out, Noctis couldn’t hear it through the glass. A pout pursed his lips at that and, ever so slowly, he began to slide the cup towards him. Towards the edge of the bedside table.

“Here, you can just-” he blinked in confusion when the boy began to shake his head furiously again, clambering up just enough to twist around, banging at the walls only to fall right back down in the cramped space as he was forced across the wood, “-just jump down into my hand, I promise I won’t drop you.”

The boy jerked, tiny blue eyes wide with panic as he scrambled at the sheer glass, somehow managing to jam himself up into the top by curling up and pressing himself tight to each wall with his arms and legs. Noctis’ eyes widened, not expecting the sudden maneuver (and more than a little disappointed that the tiny boy didn’t seem to want to let him hold him just yet), but with his miniscule body no longer resting on the dark wood, he promptly decided it would just be easier to pick up the cup entirely, boy and all. He could probably use some fresh air in there anyway. Mind made up, Noctis slid the glass the last of the way to the edge, positioning his free hand beneath the opening before lifting it easily, rolling awkwardly back towards the centre of the bed.

Even as he shifted, clumsy and jerky with both his haste and the skitters of pain the twisting sent up and down his spine, he couldn’t resist lifting the glass up to his eyes, peering at the bunched up figure inside. The tiny boy stared back, little shoulders quaking, miniature cheeks flushed a brilliant pink. Noctis slumped back into the pillows, barely paying any mind to the bitter ache in his back for the first time in weeks, carefully tilting the glass to and fro, trying to take in every little detail he could. The more he looked, the more he noticed, the glass almost helping to magnify all the miniature intricacies of the little creature. His blushing cheeks smattered with miniscule freckles, so tiny he almost missed them, his bright blue eyes tinged with the barest hint of pretty violet, his pale golden hair all stood on end like an angry kitten’s tail.

“Woah,” he said faintly, raising the glass a little higher, “you really are tiny...”

The boy didn’t respond. Did nothing but stare right back, pale skin turned almost pure white now, save for the splotches of pink across his cheeks, ears and nose. Noctis frowned, carefully splaying his fingers further, gawking at the miniature handprint pressed where the pad of his pointer finger had been.  _ So little. _

“Um, I’m sorry if I frightened you,” he mumbled, trying to use the gentle voice his father used when telling him stuff the doctors had told him, “I won’t hurt you though, I promise.”

The tiny boy blinked, slow and stuttery, somehow pressing his back even tighter to the far glass wall.

“So… do you like, not know how to speak or something?”

The tiny boy jolted, little blonde eyebrows coming downwards sharply, round face scrunching with clear indignation. But he said nothing.

“Um, do you have a name?”

Nothing.

“My name’s Noctis.”

Still nothing.

“Um, are you ok? You don’t look hurt or anything...”

Still nothing. And then, a slow, shaky nod.

“So then, what’s wrong?”

The tiny boy blinked wide little eyes up at him, eyebrows somehow climbing a fraction higher on his forehead.

“Are you scared of me?” Noctis murmured.

The tiniest of nods.

“It’s alright, I really promise I won’t hurt you, so will you come out of there?”

He flattened his free hand more beneath the opening of the glass. The tiny boy jolted, shaking his head roughly again.

“I swear I won’t drop you.”

The boy didn’t seem very reassured, only shaking his head more. Noctis figured he could just show him.

“Don’t be scared,” Noctis mumbled, bemused (and a little insulted honestly) that the boy was acting so fearful towards him, he  _ had _ already said he wasn’t going to hurt him. He just wanted to get a better look at him was all. With that in mind, he gave the glass a light, testing shake, keeping his other hand open beneath it as he tried to dislodge him. The tiny boy didn’t budge. Noctis frowned. 

“C’mon, little guy,” he muttered beneath his breath, “I just-” 

He shook it again, a little harder, the tip of his tongue poking out in his concentration.

“-wanna-” 

Another shake.

“-talk-”

And another.

“-with you.”

With a jerk, the tiny boy’s grip slipped, hands scrabbling for purchase as his upper body slumped dangerously low, now practically doubled over with his legs folded over top of him. The flat soles of his miniature boots slid treacherously on the smooth glass, knobbly knees shaking with the effort of trying to keep himself wedged inside. Heart hammering with more excitement than he had felt in months, Noctis jerked his hand once more, and all at once the boy tumbled downwards with a high-pitched squeak, limbs flailing, right into his waiting hand.

The second the warm little body hit his palm it began to struggle wildly, flopping and writhing about like a freshly-landed fish, desperately trying to get its limbs under it enough to make a break for it. Noctis gasped, dropping the now empty glass onto the blankets, all but forgotten as his free hand joined the other, straining to get a proper hold on the furiously squirming boy before he launched clean out of his grasp.

“H-hey, would you quit-” he jerked as the tiny boy shoved away his thumb, all four of his limbs straining beneath his one digit, and made to writhe out through the gap- “stop wriggling so much- I don’t- hey!- I don’t wanna hurt you-”

The tiny boy only struggled even harder, but with a curl of his fingers Noctis managed to get one hand over the other, caging him loosely in without having to press too hard. A little, rabbit-quick heartbeat jackhammered against his skin, so clear he could almost hear it, and guilt coiled heavy in his chest.

“Please, don’t be scared,” he whispered, trying to level his voice like his father did in his speeches on the tv, “I really promise I won’t-”

“Let go of me!” The boy shrieked, voice high-pitched and raw, wriggling and kicking, even though he was well and truly pinned against his palm.

“You can talk!” Noctis gasped, lifting him a little closer to his eyes.

“Yes! Yes ok?! Now p-please- put me down!”

“I can’t! You’ll run away.”

“Well what do you think I’m gonna do?!” the boy’s eyes were wide and wild when he turned them up at him, but not entirely with terror, “I don’t wanna be some bean’s stupid pet!”

There was anger there too.

“What?” Noctis mumbled, truly shocked at the admission, “I’m not gonna keep you as a- wait, what’s a bean?”

“You!” the tiny boy all but howled, shoving as hard as he could at his thumb, though it truly didn’t feel much different to someone lightly flicking him, “all you big people, you human beans!”

Noctis blinked in bemusement. “No, it’s human  _ beings _ , not beans.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“I don’t care what you think! Just let me go already!”

“Promise you won’t run away first,” Noctis said desperately.

“No!”

“Why not? I promise I’m not gonna do anything to you…”

“Like what?” the boy said in disbelief, “jamming me under a cup and shaking half my brains out wasn’t enough?”

Noctis flinched.  _ Oh… right _ . “Uh-”

“You’re mean,” the tiny boy spat.

“No I’m not!” he squawked, puffing up defensively.

“Yes you are-” the boy glared up at him, still determinedly shoving at the fingers delicately pinning his chest, “-all you beans are mean, just cause you can be, just cause you’re bigger.”

“I’m not mean, I just- I didn’t know you were a little person-”

The tiny boy leveled him with a surprisingly icy glare, wriggling against his palm.  _ He felt so warm _ . Noctis shifted awkwardly, trying not to hold on to him too tightly.

“Was it- was it rude of me to just pick you up?”

“What do you think?!”

Noctis flinched, shoulders hunching inwards with shame.

“S-sorry…” he mumbled awkwardly, trying not to fiddle with his hands, since they were still very much holding the tiny, now understandably angry boy, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought you were a mouse-”

“Well I’m not! I’m a Borrower!”

“What’s a Borrower?”

“Me!” The tiny boy said indignantly, “it’s what I am, me and my uncle, we’re both Borrowers, and we’re not supposed to be seen by beans.”

“But where did you come from then?”

The tiny boy tilted his head. “From the wall?”

“You live in the wall?”

“Well, yeah?-” the boy’s eyebrow raised, like he couldn’t understand what he wasn’t getting- “it’s too dangerous to be out in the open much, that’s why we mostly only come out at night, when all you big people are sleeping, that’s when we do our borrowing.”

“What’s ‘borrowing’?” Noctis said, fascinated.

“It’s when we go out and collect stuff, just the things that we need, like sugar and biscuits and tissues and stuff y’know? Things beans don't notice when they disappear, that’s what my uncle says.”

“That- doesn’t really sound like borrowing,” Noctis said tentatively. The tiny boy’s little nose wrinkled.

“I don’t expect a mean human like you to understand.”

“I’m not mean! It’s just- I mean, it’s not like you’re returning all these things you ‘borrow’.”

“We only take what we need to survive,” the boy said flatly, his gaze falling away from his, and Noctis fervently hoped he hadn’t upset him too much, “what? You big ones can’t spare such small things?”

“I never said that,” Noctis said weakly, perking up as a thought returned to him, “hold on-”

The tiny boy blinked, tensing in his hands as he carefully removed the fingers pinning him, wide eyes shooting back up to him as he was left in his palm, hesitantly pushing himself up on his bony little elbows, glancing about like he expected the fingers around him to launch up and crush him back down at any second.

“You wanted the biscuit here, right?”

The tiny boy stared up at him, gaze still tinged with suspicion, before slowly nodding.

“You can have it, I don’t want it anyway-” he slowly flattened his fingers more, pleased when the boy didn’t immediately try to leap from his palm- “so, if I put you down, can you not run away? I really just wanna talk with you...”

The boy watched him carefully, bright blue eyes searching his own before, tentatively, he nodded. 

“Ok.”

Noctis released a quiet breath, nodding once in return. “Thank you,” he murmured. Gently, he shifted the hand cradling him, away from his chest to hover once again beside the bedside table. The boy glanced up at him, then to the open tabletop before him, back to him once more, before he carefully moved to disembark. Noctis tried not to make any faces at the feeling of his little hands and feet moving against his palm. When all of him was finally all settled on the wood, he tentatively retracted his hand, just a little, unsure of whether the boy would keep his word. But, from the way he glanced about, fluffy blonde hair bouncing with the movement, before leaning back on his heels and looking up at him questioningly, Noctis had a feeling they had gotten past the worst.

“So,” the boy said, sniffing softly, “what, um, what did you want to talk about?”

“Tell me more about Borrowers,” Noctis said eagerly, falling back into his pile of pillows with a soft ‘thwump’, trying fruitlessly to wriggle on to his side in a way that wouldn’t aggravate his back any further, but ultimately giving up and settling for just turning his head as much towards the tiny boy as he could. Instead, he plucked the abandoned glass up from the covers, placing it back on the table before it had the chance to roll off and shatter on the cold floor. He didn’t miss how the boy’s eyes carefully tracked it until his hand withdrew, guilt still fluttering faintly in his gut at his cautious look.

“Like what?” The boy said, one eyebrow rising, “I don’t think you’ll find it all that interesting.”

“But it is interesting,” Noctis insisted, “like, how do you guys get around? How did you even get all the way up here? Do you have little versions of things?”

“Ok ok! One thing at a time-” but there was a tiny bit of laughter in his soft little voice and it made him smile in turn- “I’ll answer your questions but- but do you mind if I eat first? I haven’t had anything since this morning…”

Noctis blinked, worry settling in the back of his head like a faint mist. “You don’t have to ask, the rest of that’s all yours,” he said, gesturing to the remaining half of the biscuit, his brow furrowing further, “do you often not have much to eat?”

The boy blinked, stilling where he had crouched on the ornately patterned rim of the saucer to begin tearing off stray crumbs. “No,” he said faintly, “it’s not usually this bad, my uncle’s a real good Borrower, and he always makes sure we have enough to eat but-” the boy worried his lip, something nervous and fearful flitting across his face- “but he got hurt last week, in his ankle, and he can’t go out til it’s better… but we ran out of food this morning-”

Noctis eyes widened, the unspoken pieces falling into place. 

“So you went out on your own to try and find some, right?”

The boy’s shoulders hunched inwards, hands fiddling with the tiny chunk of biscuit he had plucked up. “Yeah,” he said miserably, “and I got caught by a human almost instantly, I’ve gotta be the worst Borrower ever!”

“Hey, don’t say that-“ Noctis grinned, trying to cheer him up- “maybe I’m just the best Borrower catcher ever.”

The boy whined, but there was a small, hesitant glimmer of amusement in his bright little eyes.

“You’re not the worst,” Noctis reassured, “if I hadn’t been awake I never would’ve known you were there.”

The boy puffed back up a little, hopeful. “Really?”

“Are you kidding? You didn’t even make a sound, you’re amazing!”

“You- you really think so?”

“Definitely!”

“Thanks,” he said, a lopsided grin creasing the corners of his eyes, glancing away bashfully a moment later, “and… I guess, you’re not so mean, for a human.”

Noctis grinned in return, the pull on his lips almost uncomfortable after so long. “Told you,” he said. He opened his mouth to continue, but found himself stilling once more to just watch the tiny boy. He knew it was rude to stare, but it was so hard when everything his new friend did was just so-

Noctis snickered. The boy turned his head back to look at him, little head tilted in question. The miniscule speck of a cookie crumb sat just below his lip and he couldn’t stop himself from giggling even harder.

“What’s so funny?” He mumbled around another mouthful, trying and failing to fight off his own irrational smile at his giant giggles.

“Nothing-” Noctis snickered again, unable to keep them in- “sorry, it’s just- you’re kinda cute.”

“Wha-” the tiny boy squawked, bony little shoulders bristling as he face all but exploded in soft red, “no I’m not!”

“But you are! You’re so  _ little _ .”

“No I’m not! You’re too big.”

“I’m normal-sized for my age.”

“So am I!”

“Oh, well, for a Borrower I guess-” he shrugged- “I don’t really know how big you guys are supposed to be. How old are you anyway? You look like a kid, but I dunno if it’s just cause you’re so small.”

The boy pouted, mumbling something about him being ‘too big’ again. “I’m eight, in human years at least, but I’ll be nine next month.”

“Hey! That’s about the same as me!” Noctis said, grinning, “I turned nine in August.”

“Huh, I thought you looked young too, but, I don’t really know with humans, I haven’t actually… seen many before, ‘specially not as close as you.”

Noctis blinked. “But you’re in a whole building full of humans, how could you not have seen many?”

“We live in the walls,” the boy reminded him, stuffing another cookie crumb into his mouth, “and I’m only just learning how to borrow things for myself, before that I wasn’t really allowed to come out, it’s kinda way too dangerous out here when you’re my size, y’know?”

“I guess…” Noctis murmured, “but, I don’t think most humans would try and hurt you guys… You're just smaller versions of us, right?”

“Humans are the worst for us,” the boy said grimly, “we’re not supposed to be seen by you guys, or else we have to leave, cause humans will come looking for us, trying to catch us.”

“No they- oh,” Noctis grimaced, recalling his own reaction with a fresh coil of guilt, “I guess I get that but- you won’t really have to move away because of me now will you? Please don’t go!”

“I-I don’t know,” the boy said faintly, “I mean… I guess if my uncle doesn’t find out I got seen, we might not have too…”

“You can’t tell him then!”

“I can’t lie to my uncle!”

“You have to, you shouldn’t have to leave because I was stupid,” Noctis hissed, forcing himself to lie still where he had leant forward with his desperation, “please? I really don’t mean you guys any harm, plus… maybe I can help you.”

The tiny boy cocked his head, uncertainty crimping his forehead. “Help us how?”

“You said yourself your uncle’s hurt right? I can help by giving you food and water, if you come by each night, I’ll save stuff from my dinner for you.”

The boy stared up at him, the blue of his eyes brilliant in the low lamplight, despite how tiny they were. 

“You- you’d really do that for us?”

“Well, yeah? It’s the least I can do after everything… and I- I kinda thought that, maybe, we could be friends? I mean- I- If you wanted to?”

The boy blinked, mouth falling open a little. “You-” he swallowed tightly, somehow looking even smaller than he already was, “I-I’ve never had a friend before, it’s always just been me and my uncle, I don’t know if I’d be any good at it...”

“That’s ok, I’m not good at it either! I only really have one friend anyway, uh, at least, I think he’s my friend, he’s really nice and he comes and hangs out with me most days, maybe you can meet him sometime? I bet you’d like him.”

“I-I don’t know about that,” the boy said weakly, cheeks going pink as he grew more flustered, “I don’t know if Borrowers can be friends with humans…”

“Why not?”

“Humans are dangerous, and I mean- it’s just-” the boy swallowed hard, fidgeting with his hands- “you’re so big, and I’m so small… how would it even work?”

“We can work it out as we go,” Noctis said eagerly, “my nanny always used to tell me friendships go both ways, that you gotta talk with each other and work out what you like and don’t like together, so like, if I do something dumb again, like picking you up without asking, you can tell me and I’ll stop doing it.”

“Will you though?”

“I promise,” Noctis said, giving a determined nod, before tilting his head as a worrying thought hit him, “unless, I guess, it’s an emergency, like a maid walks in and I gotta hide you or something-” he jerked, shooting a worried look back down at the boy- “would it be ok for me to pick you up then?”

The tiny boy blinked, shifting uncomfortably as he mulled it over. “I- I guess? So long as you weren’t too rough-” he shivered, rocking himself nervously and glancing over his shoulder at the enormous, closed doors to his room- “How- how likely is it for one of those… maids, to come in here right now though?”

“Someone came and checked on me not too long ago, so probably not for a while yet.”

The boy slumped in relief. “That’s ok then, and yeah, I think it’d be ok if you picked me up then, if it was to help me hide from other beans…”

Noctis nodded, before another, even more worrying thought occurred to him. “Wait, uh, what else exactly do you guys try and avoid out here in the open? It can’t just be all of us?”

The tiny boy shot him an incredulous look, and slowly shook his head, “pretty much everything out here is bad for a Borrower, like dogs and cats and birds, they’re all super dangerous too, my uncle says there’s sometimes cats in parts of this place and that they’re the worst, sometimes even worse than humans, but none of them can get us in the walls.”

Noctis nodded faintly. When he pointed it out, he realised just how scary it must have been to be so small, the normal, mundane world towering and terrifying to his new friend, and he quickly made a decision. He straightened as much as he could against the pillows, ignoring the twinge it sent up his back, tried to make his expression match the fierce, determined look his dad sometimes had, when he was addressing bad things on the news, though from the somewhat nervous look on his little friend’s face, it probably hadn’t worked.

“I’ll protect you then, I can help keep you hidden, and watch for cats and stuff, so you can come out in the open more often!”

The boy stared up at him, lips parting as his eyes widened further, before it burst into a dazzling little grin.

“Really?” The boy said, something genuinely hopeful sparking in his voice, “I’d really like that-“ he glanced about, tiny fingers tracing the intricate patterning of the china beneath him- “coming out of the walls more often I mean, it’s- it’s so pretty out here.”

Noctis looked around himself. The pristine, painted walls he had known all his life, sparkling marble and polished dark wood, giant windows overlooking a city he was constantly reminded would one day be his. Well, maybe not now…  _ who would want a broken king? _

“It’s alright I guess,” he said finally, “but there’s way nicer places in the Citadel.”

“Really? Like where? I’ve only seen a couple rooms really, this one and some of the halls, those are my favourite so far, with all the paintings and the statues and stuff! And- I think my uncle called it a coat room or something?”

“Is that really all?” Noctis murmured, “then you’ve got to see the gardens, and the library and the statues of the old kings.”

“I don’t even know where those things are,” the boy mumbled, looking away, “and how would I get there anyway? I’m way too small to go that far, it’d probably take me like a week to even get to one of them.”

Noctis scratched at his nose, mulling it over dutifully. “I could sneak you around in my pocket, but I always have maids with me if I leave my room, so you probably wouldn’t be able to come out-”

“In your pocket?” The boy squeaked, freezing where he had been shoving crumbs into the little, fabric bag over his shoulder. He assumed it was for his uncle.

“Yeah! I mean, I wouldn’t make you do it,” Noctis hastily amended, “it’s just, I can’t really go out on my own and show you.”

“I-I don’t know about that, sounds way too risky, my uncle would ground me for life if he ever found out.”

“It’d be pretty cool though right? You’d be like a little spy in my pocket, and besides, I wouldn’t let you get caught, I think it’d be fun-” he tilted his head up to stare at the ceiling- “it’s so boring here anyway.”

“I dunno what a spy is-” the tiny boy mumbled, pulling off more bits of the cookie and cocking his head at the sudden turn in his mood- “and if you’re so bored, then why don’t you get up and do something then? Isn’t there lots of stuff for you to play with in here.”

Noctis frowned, shoulders hunching inward as he lowered his gaze once more. 

“I can’t get up,” he mumbled, still not wanting to look him in the eye, “I can’t get out of this bed.”

The tiny boy paused again in his packing, little eyebrows bunching in confusion. “Why not? Will you get in trouble?”

“No, it’s-” he swallowed tightly, “-I got hurt a while ago, in my back, my legs don’t work properly anymore…”

“Oh,” the tiny boy said faintly, shoulders falling, “um, I’m really sorry about that... is there anything they can do to fix it?”

Noctis shook his head roughly, ignoring the itch in his eyes. “My father brings lots of doctors to see me, and they do lots of different things to me, but they never work, I don’t think any of them ever will.”

“That’s… that’s really awful,” the tiny boy mumbled, “I’m really sorry.”

“S’all right-”  _ it wasn’t _ , “-not like it’s your fault, but uh, anyway, look I’m- um- I’m sorry for catching you and picking you up without asking and everything again, it’s just-” his voice slowly grew quiet, shame prickling at the back of his neck, “-it’s just really nice to talk to someone else, other than doctors and stuff I mean.”

“It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me or anything so-” he shrugged, seemingly finishing filling his bag, fastening it shut with a tiny clothespin once more- “but uh, please don’t just grab me like that again, it’s really scary…”

“I won’t,” Noctis said with a nod, “unless you say so.”

He swallowed, shifting awkwardly.

“So, um, will you come back again? After tonight?”

The boy worried his lip, glancing away, but when he glanced back, there was something small and hopeful glimmering in his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I want to, but if my uncle were to find out…”

“Please don’t tell him,” Noctis pleaded, “I want to see you again.”

“I- I want to see you too,” the boy admitted, cheeks going a faint pink, “...ok- ok, if I can… I’ll come back again tomorrow night.”

Noctis felt himself grin so wide it hurt, barely remembering the last time his chest had fluttered this way. He nodded gently. “And I’ll make sure to hide some food for you, and your uncle too, uh, is there anything that you don’t like?”

The boy looked thoughtful for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No, not really, anything is good.”

“Alright, then that’s easy,” Noctis said, still smiling. The boy was smiling too, even as he rose to his tiny, booted feet. Noctis tried not to let his disappointment show, expecting his new friend would leave now that he had what he had come here for, not that he could blame him, he was probably anxious to get back before his uncle woke and found him gone. But to his surprise, he simply stepped from the gleaming ledge of the saucer and padded a couple of steps to settle cross-legged on the wood, leaning back against the glass he had been stuck under not so long ago. Noctis felt his smile twitch wider again, and then realised something-

“So… do you have a name?”

The tiny boy blinked, before a warm little grin of his own spread across his lips, a soft, embarrassed flush painting his freckled cheeks red.

“Oh, I guess I forgot to mention that huh? I’m Prompto.”

“Prompto… that’s a good name, it suits you.”

“Thanks, so, I think you said yours was-?”

“Noctis, but you can call me Noct if you want.”

“Noct… ha, that fits you real well too!”

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~

  
  


Within the darkness of the wall, Cor released a silent sigh.

The ache of his ankle throbbed in time with his still pounding heart. He should have known the kid would have pulled something like this, snuck off to try and take some of the strain of borrowing off of him while he recovered from his mishap. He was good like that. 

He supposed he could only be thankful that this was the room he had chosen to try and borrow from. It seemed the boy had been listening attentively to what he had told him about scoping rooms out and weighing up the risks. After all, a sickly young human was far more likely to be in bed and asleep earlier than an older, more attentive one. Unfortunately though, the young Prince was not exactly like most humans...

Cor sighed again. Well, it looked like his long-awaited reunion with his old friends was closer than he had imagined. Quietly, muffled through the wall, he could hear Regis’s son giggling, and then, just beneath it, the softer laughter of his own adopted boy. The unmistakable sound of a friendship blooming into its infancy. 

He resisted the urge to groan and bury his face in his hands.

He knew his old friends would expect a long-awaited explanation for his sudden disappearance, so many years ago now, and gods knew they definitely deserved one… but he had a horrible feeling Reggie and Clarus weren’t going to let his feet hit the ground once their little gang was back together.


	2. A Little Bit of Dadgang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If we get caught my dad’s gonna kill me,” Clarus grumbled, dutifully following along after his Prince as he crept further down the hall.
> 
> “No one will find out,” Regis whispered back, glancing about despite his words, “if you can keep your mouth shut.”
> 
> “Yeah yeah,” he grumbled, giving his shoulder a light shove, “let’s just hurry up and get there already, we’re right out in the open here-”
> 
> “Gods damn it-” Regis’s pyjama pocket wriggled furiously, before Cor’s little, glowering head poked out from beneath the unbuttoned flap- “could you be any rougher out here? I think my bones are about to shake right out my body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yes hello guess who's been a very naughty writer and still has barely made any progress in the next borrower!Prom part?:^)  
> Sorry y'all, I don't know why I'm having so much of a struggle with it;0; Though if it helps at all, with all the planning I've done for it it's looking like it'll be another VERY long part if I want to wrap everything up for the main story in it. That or or it'll end up being split into two parts, we'll just have to wait and see I suppose! Unfortunately, that does also mean that it will also be a long while yet before it's ready to be posted;-;
> 
> However! It seemed that a lot of you really liked the little reveal of a borrower!Cor in that little spin off AU (for clarity, in the main story Cor is still his regular sized human self), and a couple people hit me with the EXTREMELY tantalizing idea of a young dadgang story, and my goblin brain was tickled. SO! This little side fic is now officially where I'll be dumping anything and everything for this... AU of an AU (that's how you know things have really gotten out of hand), and I hope that these bonus bits will tide y'all over until I get my butt back into gear and get back into this next part for the main series;0;  
> First time writing the dadgang and boi howdy they were such a refreshing break;v; I probably write them a lot more mischievous than some people might like but oh well, it's more fun that way. Plus I get to write the grumpiest borrower ever, such a huge departure from poor, always-anxious Prom, but definitely a fun one!;v; Hope all you lovely, patient people enjoy <3

“C’mon Clarus, the guards are due to come down here any minute.”

His future Shield grunted, slinking across the hall after him, pressing to the wall at his side a moment later, both of them blanketed by the shadow of a fearsome, snarling behemoth carving. 

“If we get caught my dad’s gonna kill me,” Clarus grumbled, dutifully following along after his Prince as he crept further down the hall.

“No one will find out,” Regis whispered back, glancing about despite his words, “if you can keep your mouth shut.”

“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled, giving his shoulder a light shove, “let’s just hurry up and get there already, we’re right out in the open here-”

“Gods damn it-” Regis’s pyjama pocket wriggled furiously, before Cor’s little, glowering head poked out from beneath the unbuttoned flap- “could you be any rougher out here? I think my bones are about to shake right out my body.”

“His highness has always had heavy steps,” Clarus pointed out, unhelpfully.

“Shut up,” Regis grumbled, shifting his hand up to delicately place a fingertip atop the Borrower’s fluffy hair, before unceremoniously, though still very gently, shoving him back down into the bottom of his pocket with a bitten off curse. It’d be shit if they got caught now, but he and Clarus would take a hundred lectures and groundings before they let anyone else find out about Cor. They’d given him their word.

“Ow! Watch it Reggie!”

Regis rolled his eyes, knowing it was nothing but dramatics. Cor was a whole lot tougher than either of them had expected, and far more feisty than a guy that small had any right to be. Shaking himself, he hurried along once again, padding down the long halls on silent, socked feet. His etiquette tutors would have a fit if they could see him right now. The thought sent a thrill through him. They stole down the passages quickly, ducking behind pillars and into dark corners whenever guard rotations passed, but they had timed it well, and only saw a couple from a distance. And so, it didn’t take them long to reach the narrower service hall they were after and, finally, the door tucked discreetly along the left wall.

“Alright,” Regis muttered, grinning, “moment of truth.”

“Hey Tiny, you still with us?” Clarus said, leaning forward to prod at his Prince’s chest. 

“If you fucking poke me one more time-”

Clarus rolled his eyes and Regis couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.

“Still reckon you can bust this lock?” Regis said, carefully pulling the flap of his pocket up to look at the tiny, bristling boy glaring back up at him. Both he and Clarus had realised that was just his default expression at some point.

“Of course I can,” Cor huffed indignantly, wriggling about until he could stand along the bottom seam. Regis cupped his hand before him on instinct, and the Borrower wasted no time clambering out and into his palm, crouching there silent and tense, ever-ready to move if need be. Regis glanced back to Clarus, pleased to see he was watching the ends of the halls, keeping his guard up in case anyone happened to stumble down this wing of the Citadel. It was unlikely, they both knew the guard rotations almost by heart, had been sneaking around them for years now, but never for something this big. They had never actually broken into a room before. But it hadn’t taken them too long into getting to know Cor to realise that having a friend so small and cunning had… significant benefits.

Such as being able to effortlessly pick the old-fashioned locks that were still around in some of the service doors apparently. Including the servant entrance to the kitchens.

“And you’re sure there’s no one in there right now?” Regis murmured, fingers twitching defensively a little further around the Borrower, reining himself in before Cor could notice, knowing he tended to get huffy in the face of their worry.

“Completely,” Clarus said with a nod, “Jared told me the cooks are always cleaned up and out by ten thirty, no one else goes in til five tomorrow morning.”

“Perfect,” Regis said.

“I’ve never been this far down the building before,” Cor grumbled, letting his hand fall to rest on the baubled end of the sewing pin he always had stabbed through the spare fabric of his coat, “so you’d better be right about this.”

Clarus snorted. “Jared might still be learning but he knows his stuff, and besides, we won’t let anyone take you away, Tiny.”

“I feel so much better-” Cor said flatly- “under the protection of the guy who screamed the first time he saw me.”

“You ran out at me like a gods damn cockroach-!”

“Shut it, both of you,” Regis hissed.

They all went silent, listening intently for the sound of steps, but the cold, echoing halls were still and silent. They all released their breath. 

“Alright then Tiny,” Clarus whispered, “time to put your money where your mouth is then.”

Cor shot him a glare, rubbing at his tiny nose dismissively, before silently motioning for Regis to hold him up to the lock. The Prince jumped to follow, carefully cradling him close to the ornate handle. Both he and Clarus leant close to watch as the Borrower wasted no time slipping his hands into the keyhole, fiddling about with the mechanisms inside. The lock rattled and clicked softly beneath the boy’s clever little hands, his tiny eyebrows furrowing even deeper than they already were and his tongue poking out as it apparently gave him some trouble.

“Hurry up,” Clarus hissed, glancing around with more fervor.

“Do you want to pick this lock?” Cor snapped, scowling up at him. 

“You’ve got this,” Regis murmured, shooting a sideways look at Clarus. Clarus rolled his eyes, but dutifully went back to keeping watch.

“I know I do,” Cor mumbled. The lock rattled. Cor pressed his hands in deeper, almost to his elbows. A soft scrape, and finally-

The old mechanism clicked, loud enough to make both humans jump. Cor carefully extracted his hands again, wiping them down the front of his shirt, a satisfied smirk stretched across his lips as Regis gently pulled the hand cradling him back.

“You did it!” 

“Nice one Tiny-” Clarus squeezed in along Regis’ side and was ruffling his hair with a fingertip before Cor could scamper clear- “never doubted ya.”

“Get the hell off me,” Cor spat like a furious cat, or, well, kitten at best, shoving the probing digits away. Clarus snickered.

“Always so pissy for someone so damn small-”

“Save it,” Regis huffed, unable to stop a smile himself as he held Cor up near his shoulder, knowing the boy liked to be as close to eye level with them as possible. Cor leapt to the offered perch easily, settling with a withering, suspicious frown in Clarus’s direction, one hand gripping the collar of his pajamas for security. Regis knew he wouldn’t fall, his pride alone wouldn’t allow it. “C’mon, time to see if your tip off was right.”

“Jared ain’t a liar,” Clarus huffed, pushing him lightly aside, not even noticing his own wariness of knocking Cor around, and pushing the door open. The sweet, heavy smell of fresh-baked puff pastry, powdered sugar and cinnamon all but slammed into his nose.

The kitchens were empty, the dim light of emergency exit striplights illuminating the long, industrial sized network of benches, sinks, ovens and grill tops just enough for them to see. And easily enough to make out the racks upon racks of beautiful, intricately decorated pastries, thin wisps of steam still curling like fleeting ghosts through the pale light.

“Aww hell yes! They’re still warm,” Clarus said with a grin, wasting no time bounding forward and snatching up two of the pastries, what looked like vanilla-almond danishes, offering one up to his Prince, “told you I’d timed it right.”

“My royal gratitude to Jared,” Regis replied, taking the treat and immediately tearing off a small chunk with plenty of powdered sugar, passing it up to their tiny partner in crime, still perched comfortably on his shoulder.

“Your royal gratitude,” Cor mumbled sarcastically, mouth already full of sweet pastry. He had never really understood the whole human monarchy thing, which was beyond refreshing in its own way, but more than anything Regis just found his grouchy demeanor and lack of fear despite the sheer size disparity between them endlessly amusing. Though it did help that both he and Clarus knew it was pretty much all for show, Cor was a real softie beneath his resting bitch face, even if he vehemently denied it every time. 

“So how many you wanna take?” Clarus broke his train of thought, words slurred around the rest of the pastry he had apparently shoved into his mouth.

“Just make sure you get some of those cinnamon things I like,” Cor grumbled, and when Regis spared a glance his way he could see he had actually made a pretty decent dent into his chunk of danish already.

“Yeah yeah, keep your hair on, Tiny-” Clarus rolled his eyes, tugging the small duffle bag they had brought along around to his front and beginning to take one or two of each kind of pastry from each rack- “you gonna get over here and give me a hand or what?”

“You seem to be doing just fine yourself,” Regis said, but strode the last of the way over anyway, careful to keep his steps smooth. He felt Cor’s small weight shift easily with his movements, well practiced with hitching rides on their hands or shoulders by now. He plucked up some kind of tart when he was close enough, tilting it towards the light to make out the glossy, syrup drizzled surfaces of fresh ulwaat berries. “Huh, didn’t know these were back in season.”

“I think Jared said they started ordering ‘em in advance for the solstice festival next month, they’re usually always in short supply so you gotta order early-” he took a bit out of one of the tarts, smiling at the taste- “but apparently the crops did really well this year.”

“Guess that just means our timing couldn’t have been better,” Regis said, taking a bite of his own, shuddering at the rich mix of vanilla and sweet yet slightly sour fruit.

“Or that we’ll be in even more trouble if we do get caught,” Clarus mumbled, “we’ve still gotta make it back yet.”

“It’ll be fine-” Regis waved him off, aborting the movement half-way when he realised how much it would jostle Cor- “we know when all the guard rotations go by, just gotta time it right again and we’ll be home free.”

“Still,” Clarus said, looking decidedly uneasy, “if my dad caught us sneaking around in the middle of the night… worse, if the King found out-”

“My dad won’t notice,” Regis cut him off flatly, “probably wouldn’t even care.”

There was a long beat of awkward silence, and then-

“Maybe not,” Cor said with a sniff, wriggling so that his back was comfortably pressed against Regis’ neck, “but if either of your dads find out then you’d have to explain how you even got into the kitchens at all, and if you tell them about me I’ll fucking kill you.”

Regis snorted, the tension in his spine all but evaporating. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I’d like to see that too,” Clarus said, grinning, “and don’t forget, you’d have to get past me first to even try.”

“If you honestly think you’re not the first person I’d kill you’re stupider than I thought, Amicitia.”

“Sounds like someone wants to travel back to the room in the cake bag, what do you reckon, Reggie?” 

Regis could feel Cor’s icy glare prickling against his skin.

“I reckon I don’t want him near anything I’m planning on eating, I don’t wanna know where he’s been.”

He felt a tiny elbow jab into his neck and couldn’t stop the laughter that puffed past his lips. Nor could Clarus apparently.

“You’re both fuckin’ hilarious,” Cor grumbled, glancing away moodily, “it’s your damn pockets I’ve been sitting in.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s been in them either,” Clarus said, earning himself an even more venomous glower. Regis chuckled, reaching up to delicately poke the Borrower in the side and make him choke out a squeak, fully aware of how much their teasing prodding and casual touches irritated him. Or at least, they did on the surface. Neither him nor Clarus had failed to notice that Cor had never actually told them to stop. If he had they would have immediately, of course, but he hadn’t, and so it hadn’t taken them long to come to the conclusion that their tiny friend actually  _ did _ like their touch. Perhaps even craved it to some degree, but they had also come to realise that Cor was a very prideful young man, and so getting him to actually ask for anything was next to impossible. 

“Ugh, get the hell off me you big loser,” Cor grumbled, shoving his finger away, utterly oblivious to the fond little smile directed back at him. He seemed to have gotten through almost all of the chunk of pastry he had given him, kind of shocking for someone so small, but Cor had never seemed to be one for wasting food, which was a little troubling, given the few things they knew about his history. 

He shook that train of thought away. Cor had proven reliably that he didn’t like anyone prying about his childhood years, it was probably the one thing that would always get him into one of his ‘silent moments’, as they had taken to calling them, though never in front of Cor himself. He often disappeared for a while when he got that way, which had worried them the first time it had happened, but by now they had come to realise that Cor was just very comfortable in his own company, and he needed that time to think and recover. Which Regis did understand, probably more than Cor realised given his status, and he supposed to someone so small their presence would get overwhelming after a while. As long as their friend came back to them eventually.

“Are you actually gonna help or not-” he felt a small slap to the side of his neck, jolting him back into the moment, followed by a mocking- “your Highness?”

Regis huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes, but moved to help Clarus bagging up the last of the various pastries on the further racks, only taking a couple of each so none of the racks looked suspicious. He made doubly sure to pick up a couple of the cinnamon scrolls Cor was fond of.

“Reckon that’s enough?” Clarus mumbled, holding up the almost half full bag, “we got at least two of everything.”

“Looks like more food than I’d eat in a year,” Cor mused. 

“Yep-” Regis nodded- “and we’ll get through it all in less than a week.”

“We’ll fatten you up yet,” Clarus added, zipping up the bag and shifting the strap more securely across his shoulder and chest.

“Don’t forget to lock the door on the way out, no sense leaving evidence,” Cor said around his last mouthful of danish, seemingly content to ignore that comment. His warm little weight already felt somehow heavier as he seemed to sag against the Prince’s neck, the late hour, waning excitement and a full stomach already mixing to knock him out. Regis idly thought he wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep before they even got back.

“What? I can’t still hold out hope you’ll hit a growth spurt one day?” 

Cor rolled his eyes. “Keep dreaming, dumbass, I’m never gonna get much bigger than this.”

“I still reckon it could be some old kinda curse or somethi-”

“If we’re gonna avoid the next guard patrol we’re gonna have to leave now,” Regis said, cutting off that familiar argument before it could really get off the ground.

“Alright alright, so whose pocket you wanna ride back home in?-” Clarus’s smile turned mischievous, voice dropping suggestively- “I promise to be gentle with ya this time.”

Cor shot him a baleful look, sighing quietly in resignation. “Reggie’s.”

“Aww, you always break my heart, Tiny,” Clarus said teasingly, but made no move to stop Regis as he moved to offer his palm again to their smallest friend.

Cor only spared him a derisive snort, slipping fluidly down into the offered hand, only just masking a yawn as a cough, though not enough to slip it by Regis as he carefully shifted him down beside his pocket, gently lifting the flap so he could slide himself inside.

Cor dropped in, but didn’t immediately duck down, preferring to stand along the seam with his head and shoulders still poking out, little hands curled along the edge of the fabric. It was endearing as all hell, though he knew better than to voice it, there was little Cor loathed more in the world than being called ‘cute’. Much to Clarus’s ongoing amusement.

In fact, he could already see his mouth opening to say something no doubt regrettable and hurriedly moved things along. The night was too pleasant to have one of his friends pouting for the rest of it.

“Come on you two,” Regis said, letting go of the pocket flap so it flopped down over Cor’s head like a hood, “before we miss our shot.”

“Yeah yeah,” Clarus grumbled, no doubt seeing right through it, “I’m coming, same way we came?”

Regis shrugged, striding back towards the door they had come in from, giving the racks one last glance to ensure nothing was noticeably out of place. “So long as we don’t run into anyone, doubt it this late but you never know.”

“There’s usually no one about unless there’s some kind of situation going on,” Cor threw in, peering up at him from beneath the cover of fabric, head poking out once again and his hair even more fluffed up than before, “y’know, like some type of emergency or one of those big noisy things downstairs.”

“A gala?” Clarus offered, eyebrows raised.

“Whatever.”

“Well, there’s definitely nothing like that going on tonight,” Regis huffed, partly in relief. Galas were always such big, annoying affairs, and usually meant he had to get dressed up in his most uncomfortable outfits for hours on end. Clarus snickered beside him, reaching for the doorknob.

“We should sneak him along to the next one, he could hide in our coat pockets-”

It felt like a lightbulb had just blinked on behind his eyeballs. 

“We could get him a little doll tuxedo to dress up in-”

“I’m going to roll pillbugs up your nose while you sleep,” Cor said with no inflection whatsoever, disappearing completely down into the bottom of the pocket to definitely-not-sulk. Regis grit his teeth hard, desperately trying not to burst out laughing. Out of the corner of his eye he only just caught Clarus silently slapping a hand to his mouth to stifle his own as he shakily pulled the door open and practically stumbled out. Regis followed close behind, still choking on his own giggles, pointedly flicking the locking mechanism before pulling it shut behind him.

Being a Prince still sucked most of the time. The lessons were long and usually dull, the training was harsh and often painful, the clothing was stuffy, the dignitaries more so, and he couldn’t avoid either. But nights like this, when he got to steal through the dark, echoing halls with nothing but his friends at his heels (or in his pocket, in Cor’s case), breaking rules and expectations he had once never dared to even question, these were the times he lived for. 

Idly, Regis did realise sneaking out to steal freshly made desserts wasn’t exactly that impressive as far as teenage rebellions went. But, standing here now, in the dimness of some half-forgotten Citadel corridor, in the middle of the night, with his future Shield pressed flat against the wall beside him and a boy barely five inches tall tucked in his pajama pocket, he realised…

He really wasn’t that hard to please. And he was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then Cor put silverfish in their hair while they slept:^)  
> Also, I'm constantly forgetting to link these but you can also find me on Twitter and Tumblr! I'm always keen for a chat if you wanna slide in my dms~  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/DoveFanworks  
> Tumblr: https://dovefanworks.tumblr.com/  
> (hint hint: if you flick me a question or prompt for any of my stories I might just draw or write a little something in the answer;)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm constantly forgetting to link these but you can also find me on Twitter and Tumblr! I'm always keen for a chat if you wanna slide in my dms~  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/DoveFanworks  
> Tumblr: https://dovefanworks.tumblr.com/  
> (hint hint: if you flick me a question or prompt for any of my stories I might just draw or write a little something in the answer;)


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